A jug of wine and thou beside me in the wilderness
by marginaliana
Summary: AU after the first war - Severus escapes to France and the Muggle world, but he finds there are some things you can never leave behind.


"It is good you have come to us."

Severus started from his daze at the kitchen sink as a warm, reassuring hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up into his uncle's solemn face.

"When your father married I was so happy for him. I had moved here by then, left England behind, and he was alone. He had always been such a hard man. Even when we were children he was hard, unmoved by all the joy in our lives. I hoped that having a family of his own to take care of would soften him. And your mother... she loved him very much, I know. She did not want to share him, or you. Out of respect for her wishes, I stayed away. Perhaps... perhaps that was a mistake. You are blood, Severus Snape, you are family. And you will always be welcome here."

The words struck Severus like a slap to the face. A vision, a memory, came into his mind - himself, kneeling at the Dark Lord's feet.

_"Master, I know my blood is unworthy. But let me serve you!"_

_Voldemort's thin lips twisted into a cruel smile._

_"Come, Severus. You are part of my family now."_

Not for the first time, Severus felt ashamed.

"I did not come when my father died," he told his uncle, forcing the words out, "because I was too proud. Now, I have nothing - no money, no useful education, no power." He'd given up his job at Hogwarts because despite Dumbledore's protestations it was easy to see the strings attached to the position. Now his uncle was offering him just as much as Dumbledore had, with far less reason. "I can bring you nothing, Uncle Walter."

"You have yourself," Walter said. "You have the future. That is something." Then he gave a small laugh. "And you have your back and your arms and your legs. You will work hard for me, Severus. You will wake with the dawn and pick the grapes, you will tend the fields, you will build me barrels and bottles and corks. You will learn. No?" He waited.

Severus looked out again through the kitchen window at the fields there, now picked half bare of fruit, the ground pale beneath the thin vines. Through the winter, frost and wind would scrape away at the fields, and then in the spring everything would grow again, lush and new and fruitful.

"Yes," he said.

-----

Being part of a family again was odd for Severus. Walter was true to his word about the work, and the two of them toiled for long hours in the fields, sometimes with Walter's wife Emilia alongside them. But when the sky grew dark, the family retired into the farmhouse and it was like another world. Emilia loved to cook and there was always food on the table, more food than Severus could eat. His cousin Martin, at age six, was precocious, talking rapidly about whatever bugs he'd seen in the field that afternoon or the counting games he'd played at his _école primaire_. Walter was the jovial head of the family, everything Severus' father had never been. He smiled a great deal and gestured wildly with his hands while speaking.

When dinner was finished, the family would retire to the great room of the house together. At first, Severus had tried to take this chance to escape to his room in the attic, but soon he found himself swayed by Walter's repeated requests and Emilia's quietly pleading looks. He stayed, then, though he most often sat at one end of the sofa and said as little as possible. He wanted them to let him stay, after all, and this was a small price to pay for room and board and a peaceful atmosphere. Sometimes they watched the Muggle television, which Severus found inane and irritating, but mostly they did other things, read books aloud or told stories or played games (Severus had got used, in his time at Hogwarts, to having the pieces move, and so he was always slowest at these games, and gritted his teeth while playing). At Martin's bedtime Severus was allowed to slip away, though not without seeing Walter and Emilia kissing their son goodnight as they took turns carrying him upstairs and tucking him in. It made him feel profoundly uncomfortable for some reason he couldn't quite put his finger on, and yet he could hardly make himself look away.

-----

By February, Severus was thoroughly sick of grapes. So far he'd shifted hundreds of pounds of grapes into the barn to the crushing and de-stemming machine, then hauled the barrels of the resulting mash over to the tanks where it would collect and soak for the next few days. He'd cleaned the tanks, too, sterilizing each one with a caustic spray pumped from heavy hoses and then rinsing them with hundreds of gallons of water. Now he was manually hauling water to the corners of the field where the sprinklers didn't quite reach. He paused, setting down the heavy bucket, and swiped his forearm across his forehead to keep the sweat from dripping into his eyes; though the weather had gone cold, the manual labor was more than enough exertion to make him feel overheated. He sighed and gripped the bucket again, hauling it towards the pump at the side of the barn.

"Severus," Walter's voice boomed out. Severus almost dropped the bucket, catching it painfully on the edge of his wrist at the last moment. He hissed in pain. Then his uncle was there, lifting the bottom of the bucket and helping to set it aside. "I'm sorry, my boy," he said. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I..." Severus bit back a snarled retort. "It's all right." Severus told himself it was merely practicality that caused him to swallow when he longed to growl at the lot of them, merely making sure they had as little reason as possible to ask him to leave. He needed them far more than they needed him, this he knew. If he had to pretend civility to keep the roof over his head, so be it.

"I was coming to bring you the good news," Walter said. "And I see you will welcome it as much as I, my hard working one. I have hired another apprentice!"

Severus bit his lip. _Wonderful,_ he thought sourly. _Another dolt I'll have to force myself to be insipidly nice to._

"You have worked very hard these last months," continued Walter, obviously sensing some of Severus' tension. "But the growing season will be coming soon, and me, I prefer that we all have more time to sleep and eat and sing!" He grinned, nudging Severus gently with his elbow. "No?"

"Sure," said Severus.

"Excellent. Then you will take a break and come inside to meet this young man. He is quiet like you, I think."

Severus followed his uncle across the open yard to the house that was now his home. He couldn't help but contrast the sight of it - large and sprawling and brightened by warmly-colored siding, simple curtains hanging in the windows - with his memories of his previous home, Spinner's End, all dark, twisting hallways and dirty glass and the thick, velvet curtains that his mother had thought made the house look civilized. Once again he pushed those thoughts from his mind and climbed the stairs to the front porch, wiping his feet carefully before following Walter into the house and the kitchen.

"Severus, this is-" Walter began, but Severus' mouth dropped open as he caught sight of a familiar figure seated at the far side of the table, his hands reaching for a steaming cup of tea being held out by Severus' aunt Emilia.

"Lupin?" he said incredulously. Then he scowled. "Did Dumbledore send you?" he asked fiercely. "Because if he did, you can tell that old man that he can stick his teaching job-" Lupin raised his hands in a gesture of peace even as Walter cleared his throat pointedly.

"No one sent me," he said. "I just... I needed the work. I'm sure you remember why. After James died I didn't have... well." Taken aback, Severus examined Lupin for a long moment. The other man looked even more worn and tired than he had at school; rough lines formed at the corners of his eyes and the edges of his mouth. His clothes looked it, too - faded and with each tear painstakingly repaired in the characteristic manner that spoke of Muggle hand-sewing rather than the wave of a wand - and they hung off him, not quite hiding how thin he was.

"I'm not exactly Dumbledore's biggest fan right now, either," Lupin continued, his voice rising a bit. "But no, I didn't know you'd be here, or I certainly wouldn't have bothered-"

"Don't be stupid, Lupin," Severus broke in, suddenly weary. There was a long moment of silence and he looked away from Emilia's disapproving face to rub his forehead. "You're here anyway, so we might as well put you to work."

Walter's hand came to rest on Severus' shoulder.

"Excellent," he said quietly. "Remus will be staying in the attic with you as well, my boy." Severus bit back a sigh.

-----

Lupin, it turned out, wasn't completely impossible to share a room with, nor utterly incompetent. Though at first his fingers were clumsy, slowly tying the vines to their stakes and fumbling with the water pump at the side of the barn, soon he began to gain the necessary skills.

"Triple knot, Lupin," Severus growled. "No scrimping."

Lupin sighed but knotted the string over the stake once again. Severus found himself irritated by Lupin's placidity, as he had always been. He remembered seeing the seeds of something worthwhile in the other boy, once, back when Lily had tried to introduce them, but his good opinion had quickly plummeted when Lupin began associating with Potter and Black, letting himself be sucked into their pranks and their friendship. Lily had always been too smart for that.

He pushed the thought of Lily away forcefully. She was dead, and he would have to get on without her quick mind and her compassionate friendship. _I'm better off without friends,_ he thought. _Look where having them got me - stuck on the losing side._

_I wanted power and respect. Now I would be content with shelter and food and an occupation that doesn't involve killing anyone._ He snorted to himself. _And right now, that means less philosophizing and more working. Lupin's already got the trick of insinuating himself with others. I'll have to work twice as hard as he does, or my uncle will decide he doesn't need two apprentices after all._

Severus bent himself to his work more forcefully.

"So," said Lupin after a few long moments. "Did you know your aunt and uncle well when you were growing up?"

"No," Severus grunted, not wanting to make small talk but feeling obliged to play along. "Never met him until a few months ago."

Lupin nodded. "The only way you could get out of Britain, then?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Severus asked.

"No, I just," said Lupin, holding up his hands in apology. "I left, too, you know." He knelt, reaching underneath to tie a vine upwards, and sighed. "Couldn't stay there now, everyone I cared about is dead or..." He paused, and Severus remembered how close Lupin and Black had been. He sneered silently.

"Dumbledore wouldn't let me see Harry," Lupin continued after a moment, "wouldn't give me anything useful to do, and I ended up wondering, well."

Severus gritted his teeth at the confessional tone.

"I don't know why I'm telling you all of this," Lupin said.

"That makes two of us," said Severus before he could censor himself.

Lupin laughed. "You know, that's what I always liked about you, Severus. You always say what you think. Sometimes you're a bit of a git, yes, but an honest one."

Severus huffed under his breath and didn't bother to reply.

-----

After a few weeks the moon waxed to almost full, and Severus suddenly began to see a difference in Lupin's demeanor. He became more irritable, especially when they were alone, and Severus could see how forcefully he held himself back around the rest of the family. The reminder of Lupin's animal nature was not a pleasant one, and that morning he barely waited until they were out of earshot walking across the yard to the barn before he grabbed Lupin by the arm.

"What are you going to do about the moon, Lupin?" he asked.

"I'm not an idiot, Severus. I've already cleared with Walter to be gone for three days each month," Lupin said. "Mentioned it was a family matter. He said it would be fine."

Severus nodded. "Yes, but have you a place to go? 'Somewhere else' is not a good enough answer."

Lupin growled. "Relax. France is a civilized country. They have a public provision for lycanthropes - safe and secured housing in each _département_. Safe for us and for you," he added mockingly.

Severus let go of his arm with a final shake. "Good," he said.

Lupin's irritability grew as the day wore on, and Severus found himself snapping right back as they labored over the heavy casks. He was oddly grateful for the opportunity to be rude, though, since working alone with Lupin was the only place he felt he could let go of the inanely nice persona his relatives thought he truly was. He had been surprised and a little unsettled to find out how easily he'd fallen into the habit of biting his tongue, and now began searching deliberately for things to argue about, just so he could keep his tongue as sharp as ever.

"This is truly ludicrous," he ranted, shouldering Lupin aside as he wearily carried the tray full of samples across the barn to the counter full of chemical testing equipment. "Trust the Muggles to make everything far more complicated than it need be."

Lupin growled. "Give it here, then," he said. "I'll do it."

"Oh, please," said Severus, "as if you could do any better than a Muggle. Your Potions grades always were abysmal."

"They were mediocre rather than abysmal, I should say," said Lupin, "and you just try grinding fluxweed at the wrong time of the month before you tell me what my skills are."

"Boo fucking hoo," Severus hissed, holding back a yawn. "Now give me the reagent so we can be done or I shall stab you with a pipette."

Lupin handed over the chemical and Severus smirked at the way Lupin ground his teeth as he did so.

"That's what I thought," he said smugly, not taking his eyes away from the tray and carefully letting one drop of the reagent fall into each vial of half-finished wine. He felt, rather than saw, Lupin rolling his eyes.

"Indeed," said Lupin sarcastically, giving a mocking half-bow in Severus' direction. "And now if you're finished gloating, would you care to grace me with the precious knowledge of the numbers from the other set, milord?"

Something in Severus' chest tightened.

_"I hope one day to prove myself worthy of one tenth of the knowledge you possess, my lord."_

_Voldemort laughed, a harsh sound cutting through the murmuring of Death Eater voices in the back of the room._

_"Perhaps, boy, perhaps."_

"Severus?" Lupin's voice broke into his reverie and Severus shook himself.

"What?" he asked, roughly, pretending his hands were completely steady where they rested on the edge of the countertop.

Lupin's voice was tentative. "Was it something I-"

"Ah, I should have known that the old, timid Lupin was still in there," said Severus roughly, wanting to change the subject.

"What?"

"Even when you are half wolf you have no bloody backbone. It's ridiculous." Severus smirked.

Lupin's eyes flashed. "I have as much backbone as you have humanity," he snapped. Severus' stomach churned and his hands clenched into fists.

"You wouldn't know a bloody thing about humanity," he snarled, "you disgusting little animal."

"Oh, yes, I forget," Lupin sneered, "us beasts mustn't think we're worthy of caring for anyone else. Why," he said mockingly, "I'm almost as filthy as a Muggle. Only we're both Muggles now, aren't we, Severus? We've both found ourselves too inhuman to be trusted with magic."

Lupin's words brought back even more memories - the Dark Lord standing in front of the fireplace at Malfoy Manor, speaking to a rapt audience about the degenerate nature of non-magical beings. He'd even used the word "filthy," saying Muggles were "incapable of displaying the same level of intelligence or civility" as a witch or wizard and comparing them to the hogs that ran wild in Lucius' woods. "Small wonder, then," he'd said, "that it is our noble right to hunt and slaughter them."

Severus lifted his hand to his mouth. He'd been excited by that speech, full of hatred for the Muggles who had wronged him - his father, Lily's useless brat of a sister, the boys who'd insulted him as a child. He'd thrilled at the idea of wiping the smirk off Petunia's sneering face, of ending his father's violent tirades and making the man treat his mother with the respect she deserved, of teaching the street rats of his childhood the true meaning of power.

It occurred to him now, suddenly, that he'd been agreeing to much more. Voldemort's ideals would have meant the rape and torture of Severus' aunt, uncle, and cousin, who'd taken him in when he had no other place to go simply because he was family. They already had meant Lily's death, and for the first time Severus truly understood his part in it. He'd gone to Dumbledore, begged the old man to keep Lily safe, and still she'd died. Died because of Severus' mistakes, died because of her blood, which Severus had tried so hard to ignore. His true friend, killed and tossed aside like so much refuse, and it was all his fault.

The realization hit him like a blow, and he swayed against the table. His elbow knocked over the tray of vials, and he only just caught himself on the table's edge rather than falling completely over. The blood rushed in his ears and he turned, groping for a nearby bucket into which he was suddenly, violently sick.

Then Lupin's arms were there, easing him to the floor, one supporting his weight while the other pulled Severus' hair back out of the way. Severus' senses swam back in again then, and he blinked in surprise.

"Severus!" Lupin's voice was frantic. "Shit, answer me. Are you all right?"

Severus managed a croak and a nod.

"Will you be okay while I get someone? I don't-" he hesitated. Severus managed another nod, bracing himself against the sturdy leg of the table.

"All right. I'll be right back." Then Lupin was gone, presumably to get Walter. At the thought of his uncle, Severus was ill again. _What have I become?_ he thought.

The next thing he knew he was being lifted up into his uncle's arms and carried out of the barn and across the yard into the house. As he was settled onto the sofa, Emilia's concerned face peered down at him.

"Severus, my boy," she started. His stomach churned again and she must have seen something on his face because she hesitated. "Severus, love. Do you think you could drink some water?"

Shuddering, he nodded. She went back into the kitchen and Severus focused on Lupin's voice, coming low but fast from behind the sofa.

"We were arguing," Lupin said, "just like we used to in school, and then he just... crumpled."

"He will be fine, Remus," Walter said. "We will take good care of him." He paused. "What were you arguing about?"

"I..." said Lupin. Severus found himself wondering as if from a distance whether Lupin would attempt to explain the Dark Lord in some roundabout manner, but the other man only said, "he was in with a bad crowd back then. He hated me and my friends. Perhaps we deserved it. The argument... it wasn't anything new."

"But this is not then," said Walter. "Things have changed. Or neither of you would be here."

Lupin made a considering noise. Just then Emilia came back with a glass of water and helped Severus sit up. He sipped it carefully.

"Why don't you just rest, love?" she said. "You've been working yourself too hard, I think." She rested her cool hand on his forehead. Severus blinked.

"The tests," he said hoarsely. "We didn't finish-" He remembered the sound of the glass breaking as he'd fallen. "I'm sorry." The words felt foreign in his mouth and behind him he heard Lupin draw breath in surprise.

"It's all right," Walter assured him.

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"Severus, it's all right." Walter put his hand next to Emilia's on Severus' face. Severus closed his eyes, suddenly weak, and then he fell asleep.

-----

When Severus woke the sky outside the windows was dark and there was a fire going in the fireplace. He could hear the others moving around in the kitchen - running water in the sink, the clanking of pots, the low murmur of voices. He rubbed at his eyes for a moment and rearranged the blanket that had been draped over him while he'd slept. He thought about getting up but still felt too exhausted to do more than sit and watch the fire and try not to think.

After a few minutes, Emilia poked her head in from the kitchen.

"Ah, awake," she said, smiling gently. Severus nodded.

"Hungry? I have some soup that shouldn't be too much for your stomach." His stomach growled in answer and Emilia laughed. "I see. I'll be right back with it."

When she came back the rest of the family trailed in behind her. Lupin carried a tray full of mugs, looking worried, and six year-old Martin clutched his father's hand. Martin immediately ran to Severus' side.

"Are you all right, cousin Severus? Mama said you were sick. Being sick is no fun."

Severus cleared his throat. "I'll be all right. Your mama is taking good care of me. " Emilia beamed and carefully handed him the soup while the others settled down onto the floor in front of the fire. Lupin gave Severus a long look but said nothing. Severus was absurdly glad for his cousin's presence then.

"I believe it is almost your bedtime," said Walter.

"I want a story first, please," said Martin. "And Severus is sick, so he deserves a story, too."

Walter raised an eyebrow. "What kind of story?"

"I want to hear a spooky story," said Martin. "Henri said that there is a ghost who walks among the vines at night!"

"Oh, did he?" asked Walter indulgently. "Well, Severus? Would you like to hear a scary story?"

Privately thinking that no Muggle ghost story could be as scary as the events he'd already experienced, Severus nodded. "Please," he said hoarsely, sipping from the bowl of soup.

"Very well. I shall tell you the story of _le spectre de la vigne_." Walter winked at Emilia. He settled himself more firmly against the edge of the sofa and began the tale.

"Once upon a time there was a vintner named René who truly loved his work. He had no family remaining and no wife, so he loved his vines as he would have loved his own children. He was passionate about wine, about the grapes and the barrels and the moment when you breathe in just before you take the first sip. René poured his blood and sweat and tears into the land he worked and his wine was the best in the land.

"Because René was so talented he had many rivals. One such was Julien, a man whose wine was tinged with the same bitterness he showed to all in the village. Over time, Julien's hatred for René grew and grew until finally he decided he must do something to destroy his rival. He began to make hints to others that he'd learned a secret about René, that René was hiding something. One by one the other vintners could no longer control their curiosity and came to Julien to know the secret. He told them all that he believed René to be practicing black magic, and that it was this magic that made his wine so good.

"Some of these vintners did not believe him, but others were also bitter, or were merely weak-minded and easily influenced. The rumor spread until the whole village knew of it, and each whispered to his neighbor when René walked by."

Walter paused to take a drink from his mug.

"René, knowing none of this, one day offered to share some of his wine with the village priest, because he knew that the parish was not rich and could not always afford to buy the purest wines for the Communion. The priest, however, had been told of René's black magic and believed that what he was being offered was in fact tainted wine, sullied by the dark associations of its making. He denounced René to his congregation.

"The angry mob did not wait to verify the truth of Julien's rumor and they marched to the vineyard. They met René at the edge of his own fields and demanded that he admit to his evil deeds. When he continued to protest his innocence, they killed him, and buried his body under the vines."

Severus shivered a little at that. These were the kind of stories that had drawn him in to the Dark Lord's web before, tales of Muggles fearful of magic and hating anyone they envied or did not understand. And yet now he could see that it was not only Muggles who were filled with fear and anger at their lack of comprehension, that he and Lucius and Regulus - none of them had been any less wrong in their arrogant judgment.

"The next morning, Julien's housemaid overheard her master gloating in private at causing his rival's death. Horrified, she rushed to the church and the truth was made known to the whole village. Repentant, the priest ordered that René's body be reburied in the churchyard, but when the congregation returned to dig up his body they found the grave covered in almost impenetrable vines. When they finally broke through to the ground, the body was gone.

"This might have been the end of the story. But three days later a young man from the village was walking through the fields at night looking for his sister's pet dog. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the vines began to move. At first he thought it was just the wind, but then the vines took the shape of a man carrying a bottle of wine. Terrified, the young man forgot the dog and ran all the way home. In the morning he returned with the priest, and together they found that the vines have gone completely wild, turning a large section of cultivated field into a confused tangle of creepers. A few fields over, Julien's fields had withered and died.

"Ever since then there have been nights when _le spectre de la vigne_ walks among the rows of the vineyard. Some nights he merely passes through, while other nights he reaches out and rests his hand on the end of the row. On those nights, the morning finds the vines grown and tangled into a mysterious wilderness, their flowers or grapes thick and lush and supernaturally sweet."

As Walter finished the story, Martin graced them all with a tired smile, his eyes only barely remaining open.

"Love your stories, Papa," he said. Emilia lifted him into her arms and carried him up to bed, and Severus watched the fire only a little bit longer before falling asleep himself.

-----

Lupin was gone in the morning and Severus realized that he must have left early in order to make his way to the secured housing in Amiens. Neither Walter nor Emilia pushed him to discuss his breakdown, though each said, separately, that they would be happy to listen should he wish to talk. He told them both that he was fine and would prefer simply to get back to work.

But the work was no longer as absorbing as it had been, and without Lupin's chatter Severus found himself thinking more and more about the things he wanted to forget.

_I always thought Lily chose the wrong side, chose to be weak,_ he thought, _and then she was dead and I knew I had been right. But now... I think perhaps I would rather be dead than be as cruel and alone as I have been._

When Lupin returned two days later he brought news of an uproar in the village. Severus returned to the house at the end of the day and found Emilia making Lupin tea in the kitchen as she listened.

"Adèle was telling me-" Lupin coughed and took a sip of tea just as Severus came in. "Hullo, Severus," he said warily. In the bright light of the kitchen, he was unusually pale, and though his voice was cheerful it wavered a little.

Severus inclined his head in a silent greeting and went to wash his hands in the sink.

Lupin must have taken that as an indication to continue. "She said that Eugenie had told her that Célie saw a ghost the other night. The ghost of the vineyard!" He grinned.

"_Le spectre de la vigne_, eh?" said Emilia.

"I'm lucky that I got to hear the story from Walter before hearing it from Adèle," said Lupin, "because without having that background idea of what she was talking about, I should have thought we'd been visited by the headless horseman!"

"That Eugenie is one of the silliest girls ever," said Emilia. "I cannot believe she let Célie pull the wool over her eyes so easily."

Severus felt his lips twitch at Emilia's exasperated tone. He wiped his hands on the towel she handed him.

"Then again," she continued, "most people are rather silly at sixteen. I know I was. Why, I was convinced of the most ridiculous things. It must be universal, eh, Severus?"

He didn't know quite what to say and there was an awkward silence. "Never mind," she said quickly. "I do not mean-"

"I was," Severus blurted, not sure why he wanted their approval so desperately but not wanting to let the moment slip away. "Silly. Gullible. All of those things." His face burned but he made himself meet Lupin's eyes.

"I, too," said Lupin. "I did many stupid things."

"Perhaps," said Severus grudgingly, "you weren't entirely at fault for some of the worst of those."

"Nor you," Lupin said pointedly.

"Fair enough," said Severus.

They looked at each other for another long moment.

"This doesn't mean we're friends," he said.

"Of course not," said Lupin.

"Well," said Emilia, failing to hide a smile, "now that's settled, which of you is going to shell these peas?"

-----

"Is it just me, or are these thicker than they were the other week?"

"They're vines, Lupin, they grow."

They'd fallen into a routine in the week since the moment in the kitchen. Lupin made conversation as they worked and Severus sniped at him, though without any real venom. The subject of Hogwarts and the past hadn't come up again; instead, they talked about the other people in the village (Lupin: "I think Eugenie has a crush on Célie's older brother - at least, she couldn't stop giggling for five minutes after he'd gone. Took me forever to buy the fish." Severus: "Imbeciles like that should be slapped with a fish."), Martin's education (Lupin: "Can you believe the Muggles begin teaching mathematics at such a young age?" Severus: "Too bad they aren't teaching them penmanship. They can add but they can't read their own handwriting."), and, most of all, the work itself. Lupin's interests tended more towards the grapes - the different varieties and their histories, especially. Severus's interest, perhaps predictably, lay more in the wine - how to combine the juices of different grapes along with yeast and sugar to produce different overtones and tastes.

"I know, I know," said Lupin wryly. "But they seem different, more than I would have expected."

Severus snorted.

"What are you saying, Lupin, that we have been visited by _le spectre_? Twaddle. Visiting the village so much has addled your mind."

Lupin laughed. "No, no. Though supposedly three more people have seen the thing now. But they're Muggles, and I know as well as you there's no way they could have seen a real ghost." He sobered. "Still, there's something odd about all this."

Severus shrugged and went back to work.

-----

That night, Severus was woken abruptly from a sound sleep. He gasped, sitting up, and listened for a repeat of the noise. In the bed across the room, Lupin was doing the same.

"Did you hear something?" Lupin whispered. Just then, from below them came a high-pitched scream Severus recognized, after a moment, as Emilia's. Throwing back the covers, he dashed for the stairs, Lupin right behind. He took the stairs two at a time, and as they reached the ground floor he found them in the kitchen, Walter soothing his wife with his arms around her shoulders.

"Is everything all right?" Severus asked, breathlessly.

"It's okay, just a trick of the light," Walter said, stroking Emilia's back. "Everything's fine."

"What happened?" asked Lupin.

Emilia took a shuddery breath. "I saw it," she said. "I thought those girls were all so silly but I saw it with my own eyes! I just came down to get a drink of water and when I looked out the window it was right there at the edge of the field."

"What was?" said Lupin, but Severus already knew the answer.

"_Le spectre_," Emilia said. "_Le spectre de la vigne_!"

Severus and Lupin exchanged a look.

Walter cleared his throat and ran a hand over her hair, looking as if he wanted to contradict her. Then he pursed his lips. "Let us go check on Martin," he said, "and then we will go back to bed. Everything will make more sense in the morning."

He met Severus' gaze over Emilia's shoulder and his eyes were troubled.

They climbed the stairs together and on the first floor landing found Martin peering excitedly out of the doorway to his bedroom.

"Papa, what's going on?"

Walter swiped a hand over his face. Severus did not envy him the explanation and merely continued up the stairs to the attic. When they reached it, Lupin shut the door quietly and turned to look at him.

"Okay," he said, "this is getting creepy. I don't know about you, but tomorrow night I'm going to stay up and see what happens."

Severus looked at him. Lupin's bony knees stuck out from under the ragged hem of his boxer shorts and his hair stuck up in back from where he'd tossed and turned against the pillow. Despite all that, there was a determined look on his face, and Severus found himself responding more to that expression than to Lupin's tattered outward appearance.

"Fine," he said, making himself sound grudging with an effort. "I'd better make sure you don't bollocks it up, I suppose."

Lupin's mulish face gave way to an irritating smile and Severus threw a pillow at him before collapsing into his bed.

-----

Walter was brusque the next day, corralling Severus and Lupin into the barn and telling them in no uncertain terms that they'd be working inside, not in the vines. He continued to look troubled, though, sometimes looking off in the direction of the fields for long periods of time. Severus had to say his name several times to get his attention, but when pressed, Walter refused to say what he was thinking.

"I'm fine, Severus, Remus," he said each time. "It's nothing. You boys don't need to worry."

Severus bristled a little at being considered a boy, but held his tongue. His uncle was plainly upset about the previous night's uproar, and Severus was wary of upsetting him further.

That night, after dinner, they all gathered in the living room as usual. Walter made a valiant attempt to preserve normality, but Severus could sense the tension underneath. Finally, after a long, strained silence, they all retired to bed early. Up in the attic, Lupin turned off the light and they pretended to be asleep for a few hours before sneaking downstairs and out into the cold March air.

Severus didn't quite know what they were doing, but Lupin seemed to, so Severus followed him stealthily around the edge of the yard to the small shed at the end of the field. Lupin slipped inside, tugging Severus in after him.

"We can wait here and watch," Lupin whispered, his breath forming a cloud in the air. "If we just crack the door, we should have a perfect view out into the vines if anyone comes."

"Do you really think there's something out there?" Severus whispered back. "Lupin, this is insane." The protest was half-hearted. He trusted Lupin's instincts for some reason he couldn't quite name.

"I don't think it's a ghost, but other than that, what could it be? Emilia's not crazy. She must have seen _something_."

"Yes, but did she see a bloody man made out of grape vines? Or did she just see something waving in the wind, with a weird shadow?"

"I don't know. That's what we're here to find out."

"But what if-"

"Quiet," hissed Lupin, pressing Severus back against the wall of the shed. Severus opened his mouth and then snapped it shut as he caught sight of movement through the crack of the door. He held his breath as Lupin leaned forward, obviously trying to see the apparition better without being seen himself. Severus stood on tiptoe, trying to see out over Lupin's head, but he couldn't get close enough to the door without pressing himself against the other man's back, so he sank down again.

Above them, the clouds shifted and the wan light of the half-full moon fell through the shed window. Lupin's pale hair was suddenly lit with faint highlights and he seemed more ethereal than the specter they were chasing. Severus was struck by the thinness of Lupin's wrists against the doorframe. _How_, he wondered, _can a man who lifts 50 pound wine barrels like puffskeins be simultaneously so frail?_ Severus wanted... he wasn't sure what he wanted. Almost without conscious thought he reached out-

His hand closed on empty air as Lupin pushed open the door of the shed and stepped forward.

"I think it's gone," Lupin said. Severus had to clear his throat.

"What an astute observation," he said sourly. "Now what?"

-----

When they got back into their room in the attic, Lupin finally let Severus ask questions. What Lupin had seen turned out to be exactly what Emilia and all the silly girls in the village had described - the shape of a man but of vine and grape, not flesh and blood. He'd walked between the rows of vines slowly, Lupin said, head back proudly as if he surveyed his rightful domain.

"Very dramatic, Lupin," Severus sneered.

"Hey, that's how it was," Lupin protested.

They looked at each other.

"So now we've seen it, too. What are we going to do about it?"

"We could get an exorcist," Severus suggested dubiously. "It must be some ghost if the Muggles can see it."

"That's just it. They shouldn't be able to see it _at all_. Ghosts just don't work that way."

"Well, then I don't know!"

"What if I write to Professor Flitwick?" Lupin suggested. "Even if he doesn't know what kind of thing this could be, he might know someone."

Severus slowly nodded. "Not a bad idea, but where are you going to find an owl?"

Lupin cursed, then sighed. "I suppose it'll have to wait until I go back to Amiens at the end of the month. I can send it then."

"And until then?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Until then... we wait and watch. Whatever it is hasn't harmed anyone yet."

Severus pursed his lips but nodded. "Fair enough. Now can we go to sleep? In case you've forgotten, we both have to work a full day tomorrow."

Lupin yawned, giving Severus an excellent view of his tongue, and he turned away to hide his sudden flush.

"Excellent idea," said Lupin, climbing back into his bed. Severus did the same and pulled up the covers firmly.

"Goodnight," said Lupin. Severus grunted.

He lay there for a long time just listening to Lupin's breaths settle out into a slow pattern. When he was sure the other man was asleep, Severus lifted his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

_This is insane,_ he told himself firmly. _I decided not to try to have friends anymore, remember? And this is even an order of magnitude stupider than breaking that promise to myself._ His lips twisted in sardonic amusement. _He's not even attractive!_ But that, he knew, was a lie. Lupin was scrawny, to be sure, but he had a vitality about him, an aura of suppressed liveliness, even when he was worn down from the full moon.

_And he tried to kill you,_ Severus wanted to tell himself. But he hadn't truly believed Lupin to be in on it for more than the first wrathful, terrified hour, even if he'd maintained to the world that it was a cruel conspiracy for years afterward. Lupin had been at the mercy of Black as much as Severus himself had. Which would have made Lupin's continued friendship with Black and Potter even more galling, except that Severus was well aware of just how much so-called friends could use you and still be forgiven.

The truth was that if they hadn't known each other before, Severus would have found Lupin excessively pleasant company - more so than Rosier or Wilkes had ever been. And Lily, well, she'd been a wonderful friend, but she'd never seemed to feel for him what he'd felt for her. She had a home and a family, even before she'd gone and got herself hitched to Potter. She'd never really understood what it was like to need something you were never going to have.

Whereas Lupin... Lupin understood desperation.

_Merlin's tits,_ thought Severus, _I'm going ridiculously maudlin._ He groaned silently. _Oh, I've got it bad._

He put the pillow over his face and tried to go to sleep.

-----

The next week was disturbingly quiet. No one in the village reported seeing the apparition again, and though both Severus and Lupin stayed up at night peering into the fields, neither of them saw anything either.

After a few days, Walter was forced to let everyone go back to work in the fields, since there were vines to prune and irrigation lines to be maintained. Severus was willing to admit that the vines closest to the house were thicker now, more lush and tangled, and he couldn't stop himself from shivering just a little as he walked into the field.

But nothing happened. They fell into the routine again, working and eating and playing games in front of the fire, Lupin borrowing books from the public library and leaving them for Severus to read, Walter lifting Martin into his arms and flying him around like a Muggle airplane. Martin turned seven at the end of the week and they threw a small party with Emilia's delicious chocolate cake. Martin revealed an obsession with the newly released _Superman II_ film and Severus was forced to both see it and hear the plot described several times by his enthusiastic young cousin.

Severus found himself watching Lupin's face in the firelight or the way the other man's hands were gentle as they peeled potatoes. He knew he was beginning to make a fool of himself and yet couldn't stop, couldn't make himself look away or stop thinking about Lupin's fingers brushing his as they passed over dirty dishes from the table.

_Severus Snape, you are a prime idiot,_ he thought, stomach going warm as Lupin looked up from his book and caught his gaze, smiling shyly.

-----

By the following week Severus was beginning to relax, which in retrospect he recognized as a mistake. The weather was growing warmer and Walter had them working on various tasks outside - cleaning the tanks and taking core samples of the soil for testing.

Lupin carried a bucket of water from the barn out into the field where Severus knelt with the soil-sampling tools.

"Could have used one of those in Herbology," Lupin nodded his head at the tools, grunting a little under the weight of the bucket.

"Much more efficient," Severus agreed absently. "_Cavo_ leaves everything so messy."

Lupin poured the water out slowly and then hefted the empty bucket onto his shoulder as he carried it back towards the house.

"Severus! Remus! Look at me!" Martin's voice rang out clearly and both men looked up. Severus sucked in a breath of air. The boy had edged out onto the roof of the second floor and was proudly waving his arms in the air, displaying the sheet he'd tied around his neck as a makeshift cape. "I'm Superman!"

"Martin, go back inside!" Severus shouted. He dropped the auger and stood. Just then Martin's foot caught on the sheet and he slipped, falling on his bottom and sliding off the edge of the sloping roof. He screamed, but caught himself on the gutter.

Severus began to run. As he reached Lupin's position at the edge of the field, he pulled his wand from his pocket. He flicked it in the direction of the house, Lupin's hand closing over his own. They cast together. "_Wingardium_-" But it was too late. Martin's hands slipped from the edge of the roof and he fell, his small body twisting in anticipation of the harsh landing two stories below. Severus felt his heart seize up.

The fall stretched out for a long moment, Martin floating gently downward in contradiction of every law of gravity Severus had ever known, the sheet billowing out behind him in a dramatic wave.

Severus didn't realize he'd stopped breathing until he started again, sucking air into his lungs with a shocked gasp. Martin's feet slowly came to rest in the grass in front of the house. He looked up, a frightened expression on his face, and Lupin pulled Severus through the gate into the yard just as Martin started to cry. As they skidded to a stop, Severus' heart beating madly, Emilia burst through the front door and gathered her son into her arms. She met Severus' gaze over Martin's shoulder.

"A miracle!" she said.

Severus exchanged a look with Lupin. "Not quite," he said. "Emilia..." He paused, trying to find the best way to explain.

"Your son is very special," Lupin said. "Very special indeed. Let us go inside and we can explain."

As a wary smile broke over Emilia's face, Severus realized that Lupin was still holding his hand.

-----

Walter and Emilia sat wide-eyed through Lupin's halting explanations about the magical world. Just as he was beginning to describe Hogwarts, an owl tapped at the window. Severus got up and let it in, carefully removing the letter.

"From the Ministry de Magie." He slit it open with his wand. "Ah. A chastisement for casting in front of Muggles."

"So nice to see that Britain is not alone in being able to bypass context in favor of action," Lupin murmured, and Severus bit back a grin.

As he scribbled his reply, Emilia took a deep breath.

"I think we need time to think this over," she said. "This is all such a shock."

"I don't know what to think," said Walter.

Severus nodded. Once he would have been angry that such Muggles dared to reject the precious gift of magic. Now, though, he knew what it was like to be suddenly thrown into a world you didn't quite understand.

"Why don't you boys just take the day off?" Walter suggested. "The grapes will be there tomorrow."

Lupin nodded and tugged Severus up the stairs before he could say anything else.

"Of course," he said. "Call us if you need us."

In a moment they reached the attic and Lupin pulled Severus inside, shutting the door firmly. Severus looked down at the hand on his wrist.

"Look, I just wanted to explain," Lupin said. "I'm not. I don't. I promised myself I'd-" He took a deep breath, and then another. "I really like you."

Severus felt his mouth fall open.

"I'm know you probably think I'm the biggest idiot on the face of the planet; you made that completely clear in the past. But we've been working together so well and I'm sort of hoping you maybe don't hate me quite so much anymore. Unless I buggered it up out there, for not carrying my wand or not being fast enough or just-"

"I -" said Severus. He swallowed.

Lupin's gaze was hot on his face and Severus couldn't decide if he wanted the other man to look away.

"Lupin," he said, flustered, "I don't know, I mean, you like me? What does that even mean?" It came out more plaintive than sharp but Lupin seemed to still feel the sting. He rocked back on his heels for a moment.

"I-" he said. Then he looked down for a long moment and slid his hand further up Severus' arm, pushing up the sleeve of his jumper. "I want to kiss you," he said in a rush, voice suddenly gone husky. "I want to sit on the sofa after dinner and put my arm around you, and run my fingers through your hair, and kiss you and-"

Severus stopped the flow of words with his lips before he could think about what he was doing.

It was a chaste kiss at first, just the press of lips against each other, and though Severus had been kissed before he felt somehow alien in his own body, like a distant observer to this long awaited moment.

Then Lupin moaned and opened his mouth a little, the warm puff of breath causing Severus' body to soften. He leaned forward, twisting his arm over to grip Lupin's arm in turn, and slid his thumb over the other man's skin. The kiss deepened. Severus felt his whole body flush with desire, the skin that touched Lupin's becoming even more sensitive. Lupin's fingers were calloused from work and they rubbed pleasurably against the crook of Severus' elbow.

After a moment, Severus broke the kiss and pulled Lupin's other wrist up to his mouth, nuzzling against his pulse point.

"Er," said Lupin. "Oh. _Oh._"

Severus smirked.

"I just had an idea," Lupin said suddenly. "What if Martin was making that thing appear?"

Severus frowned. _He's not supposed to be thinking about that now!_

Lupin blinked. "Sorry," he said. "I wasn't. Er. Carry on?" He gave Severus a disarming smile.

Then the penny dropped.

"Of course!" said Severus, dropping Lupin's wrist and throwing his hands in the air. "He was so fascinated by that story. I bet he just really wanted to see it."

"And then," said Lupin, nodding, "after it showed up the first time, the story just grew in his mind, so whenever he stayed awake at night thinking about it..." He trailed off.

"That explains why the Muggles could see it, too." Severus found himself nodding along with Lupin.

"Wow, he must be quite powerful to have done something like that so young."

"Mmmm," said Severus proudly.

"We ought to arrange for him to meet some other magical children," said Lupin.

"Why?" asked Severus bluntly. Lupin laughed.

"So that he can get a head start on schooling. Just think what he'll achieve if he has some of the advantages that those born into magical families do. Also, I think it might help your aunt and uncle to see a normal magical family, to see that they're not so different, you know? No horns, forked tail, and all that."

Severus snorted.

"I think Molly Weasley has a young one about the same age as Martin. What was his name? Lancelot? No. Percival? I think that must have been it. Perhaps we can set something up there."

"Mmmm," said Severus again. "Later."

"Later? Oh," said Lupin as Severus drew him into another kiss. He leaned his weight against Lupin, pressing him against the door to the stairway and enjoying the warmth that Lupin gave off. Daringly, he slid his tongue across Lupin's closed lips, enjoying the soft sigh that resulted.

"Severus," Lupin whispered.

"Remus," he whispered back teasingly.

"Severus! Remus! Guess what? I'm a wizard!" Martin's voice broke through the intimacy of the moment.

"I guess we'll have to get back to this later," said Lupin, laughing.

"Soon," said Severus, voice strangled. "Really, really soon."

But he was smiling as he opened the door and let Martin grab them both around the legs, happily proclaiming that being a wizard was way cooler than Superman.

_Perhaps,_ he thought, _though the fields have long been fallow, we shall finally have an abundant harvest._


End file.
